


the tower and the chariot

by weatheredlaw



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brotherly Bonding, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Friends to Enemies, Implied Sexual Content, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-03-22 14:53:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13766508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: Magnus chooses to forget, and it all slips away, into the pulsing lights of Wonderland. Before long, Kalen is nothing.But, you know — he used to be something.





	1. page of cups

**Author's Note:**

> wow so this story is a _lot_. there's more coming and it's all sort of inspired by the fact that i felt like everything that happened between kalen and magnus in raven's roost was hugely personal. so i'm fudging with some canon and playing in this space. i hope you like it -- i've really enjoyed working on it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little desperately, he wishes that things won’t change. Not that nothing new will happen at all, or that things won’t be a little different a year from now. Just...the feeling. He wants to be this happy forever, and he wants Kalen and everyone else to feel the same.
> 
> It’s a silly wish, the sort of thing children ask for. But Magnus can’t remember much of being a child, so he has to do these things now.
> 
> Watching the sky overhead, it feels possible that his wish might come true, even as everything around him starts to change.

_I wonder which one would be worse to take from you: the person that you loved or the person that you… hate. I think we’ll go with… the latter. If you accept this sacrifice, you’ll forget Governor Kalen. You’ll forget all about him. You won’t be able to track him down— you just won’t know anything about Governor Kalen. You’ll forget what— you’ll remember what he did to you but you will not remember who did it. — Edward to Magnus in ‘The Stolen Century, Chapter 5’_

 

* * *

 

_The Page of Cups indicates the surprising and unexpected nature of inspiration that comes to us from the realm of the unconscious and the spirit. Inspiration is seen to be something which comes upon us most unexpectedly and often in a manner which we do not understand._

 

* * *

 

It’s hard, in the moment, to say what he  _wants_  to say.

Magnus wants to tell Taako and Merle the whole story, start to finish. Who Kalen really  _was_ , and what he really  _meant_. He wants to show them his first pair of work boots, the owner’s name scrawled on the bottom in a messy hand, then crossed out.

He wants to tell them about the first beer he drank in Raven’s Roost, and the man who bought it for him. He wants to tell them how that man became someone else, and how Magnus let him live, when he probably should have done what everyone expected him to do.

Right now, he can’t go through the story, from start to finish.

So he says what’s easier. And he calls Kalen what he is, because there’s no room anymore for what he  _used_ to be. All that’s gone, now. Most of it, anyway. There’s a spare corner, where the guy who found Magnus lying in the dirt, staring up at the sun lives. He’s got a wide grin and a tan face with freckles crossing the bridge of his nose. His plaid button down billows in the wind that’s picking up from the East. He reaches down and takes Magnus’s hand and says in a voice that never loses its rich, warm timbre —

_You lost, friend?_

That guy lives in a lonely corner, but Magnus makes the deal and feels every memory start to slip away.

Kalen buying him a beer, helping him get a job — introducing him to Julia.

But then — Kalen becoming governor, and trying to keep Raven’s Roost safe and isolated. All the martial orders and the heavy handed politicking. The marching and the shouting and...the madness, you could call it.

It all slips away, into the pulsing lights of Wonderland and then, to Magnus — Kalen is nothing.

But, you know — he used to be something.

 

* * *

 

_Don’t talk to him. Don’t let him talk to you. Kill him. And tell him it’s for Julia._

 

* * *

 

Magnus is lying face up in the dirt, and he can’t remember how he got there.

There are three crows circling overhead — or maybe ravens. He knows there’s a way to tell the difference, but he can’t remember that either. He feels lucky, without knowing why, that he knows his own name.

The sun’s place in the sky tells him it’s mid morning, and the world around him is quiet. He closes his eyes again, to enjoy this — but the distant sound of a woman crying, sobbing, saying his name, keeps breaking through. Magnus feels it moving further away, like he is a train speeding past and...whoever she is, has fallen behind.

Eventually, Magnus doesn’t hear her at all.

He knows he should get up, but every part of him is exhausted. He feels like he fell a few hundred feet, but he knows, somehow, that he was left here quite deliberately. He just doesn’t know why.

Noon comes and goes. Magnus closes his eyes and rests, roused only by the sound of footsteps drawing near. He turns his head to the right, dust settling on a pair of worn work boots. A man no older than Magnus leans down, a brightly patterned handkerchief tied around his neck, the most color Magnus has seen all day.

“You lost, friend?” he asks, and extends a hand.

Magnus blinks dust from his eyes and, without much thought, takes it. He’s lifted off the ground in one go, coughing and stumbling from the rush.

“ _Whoa._ ” The man steadies Magnus with a firm hand between his shoulder blades. “Easy there. You look like you’ve been out here a while. Wanna tell me what happened?”

Magnus chokes on dust a few more seconds before finally taking a calming breath. He glances over. “I, uh. I don’t remember.”

“...Well. Alright, that’s fair enough I guess. You got a name?”

He nods. “Magnus.”

The man takes this in, then grins, wide and happy. He claps Magnus on the back. “Nice to meet you, Magnus.” He points toward a farmhouse on the horizon. “I work over there, and Ben lets me sleep in the loft upstairs. I bet he and his wife wouldn’t mind giving you a place to stay for the night, until you can get on your feet.”

“...Okay.”

The man starts walking. “I’m Kalen by the way,” he says and leads Magnus toward the house.

 

* * *

 

Kalen works for a man named Ben, and his wife Lucille. They let Magnus bathe and put him in some of the spare clothes they have in the house and feed him dinner. No one asks him a lot of questions — he suspects Kalen may have mentioned that he doesn’t remember much. The walk to the house had been peppered with him asking questions and Magnus answering sheepishly, “I don’t know.” After a while, Kalen had just stopped.

Lucille is kind and sweet and fills his plate a few times more than is strictly necessary. Ben talks about how it’d be nice to have a spare set of hands, and this seems to excite Kalen.

“Be nice to have someone around. Gets lonely out there.”

Magnus nods, and intends to refuse, but remembers that...he has nowhere to go. Wherever he’s been left seems to be safe enough, and whoever left him there seems to have done it on purpose. So close to someone’s house, to someone who’d find him and take care of him.

“We’ll have Kalen take you into town tomorrow, since it’s Sunday. Maybe get you a few things to wear. If you want the job, that is,” Ben adds.

Magnus nods. “I’d appreciate it. Be nice to have some work to do.” He looks at his hands — they seem weathered, like they’ve known days of hard work, but they also don’t seem like his own. Nothing about his body feels like it belongs to him. More than anything, though, he feels like parts of him are missing. Like he’s had bits and pieces picked off and throw away.

Lucille notices his momentary lapse and clears her throat, bringing him back.

“I made a pudding,” she says, and heads into the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

That night, Kalen rummages through a couple of crates, swearing and talking to himself.

“I  _know_  I’ve got a  _spare_ —” He cries out triumphantly. “Ah ha!”

“What—”

“Boots,” he says, and passes them to Magnus.

Magnus turns them over in his hands, and sees scrawled on the bottom,  _Kalen._

“Oh.” Kalen takes them and digs around until he finds a marker, crosses it off, and writes,  _Magnus._  “There. Now they’re yours,” he says, and passes them back.

Magnus considers them. They’re heavy, and they feel  _sturdy._

“We take Sundays off,” Kalen says. “So we can go into town and you can meet some folks, if you’re up to it. Raven’s Roost is a great place,” he adds. “Everyone here’s really friendly. Do you remember where you’re from?” Magnus shakes his head. “That’s okay. Eddie, the guy who owns the pub, he was like that, too. Never could explain how he got here. Probably on the run from someone but—”

“I’m not,” Magnus says, though given all he’s said so far, that could be as true as any other reason he has for winding up in the dirt that morning. “I mean...I don’t think I am.”

Kalen shrugs. “It’s okay. You don’t really seem the type.” He goes to the closet and pulls out some blankets. “You can take the bed if you want. I’m okay to kip here on the floor until we get you a decent cot.”

“I can’t take your bed—”

Kalen waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, already making himself a palette on the floor. “I used to sleep on the ground up here all the time until Miss Lucille found out and made Ben get me a proper bed. She’ll make sure you’re all set, too, don’t worry.” Kalen reaches out and puts a reassuring hand on Magnus’s shoulder. “I don’t know how you got here, but you’re in a safe place now.” He smiles. “That’s what Raven’s Roost is.”

 

* * *

 

Raven’s Roost is beautiful. Magnus can’t remember much, but he knows this place has to be one of the most beautiful he’s ever been. The town is full of life and people, with stores crammed into every block. There’s a place Kalen calls the Craftsman’s Corridor where he says tourists come and buy, “all that artsy stuff,” but it makes real things that real people need.

“The Waxman’s make furniture, the McGuire’s make iron works, the Kingsley’s build houses.” He ticks them off as they go, finally approaching a little place called Ends and Aims at the end of Main Street. “This is Eleanor’s place, she sells used clothes and the like. Miss Lucille gave me some coin to get you a few things, but I bet we could have a bit left over for a beer at Eddie’s.”

Magnus finds himself grinning. Kalen is light, reaching out and touching his shoulder when he thinks Magnus might be slipping, or saying something informational just to keep them going. On top of it all, he’s genuinely happy to have someone working with him on the farm.

They leave Eleanor’s with an armful of flannel shirts and some good, solid jeans. Kalen had tried to get him to buy some of the sturdier brown work pants, but...there’s something about the denim. It’s an eerie feeling, and touching the fabric makes him feel like he’s getting something back, but as soon as he feels close to it, it’s like he’s swatted away. Not allowed to go there.

“Beer,” Kalen says, and steers them down the road.

Inside Eddie’s there seem to be a lot of young men spending a Sunday afternoon off. Magnus sits where Kalen tells him to, ignoring the curious gazes that linger until Kalen comes back with their drinks.

“Don't mind them,” he says. “They’ll get used to you.” He glances over his shoulder. “This is Magnus,” he says. “Just came into town. Ben’s hired him on at the farm.”

One of the men nods. Ben’s decisions seem to carry some weight, and this satisfies their curiosity. For now. Magnus suspects it’ll be like this for a while. He wonders how long he’ll really make it here.

Kalen turns back to him and sighs. “Sorry about that. Raven’s Roost is a great town, but it’s a small town. You’ll fit in sooner than you think, though,” he adds, taking a long drink of his beer. He wipes the foam from his upper lip. “So you remember anything new?”

“No. Sorry—”

“Eh, don’t apologize.” Kalen leans back in his chair. “Like I said, it doesn’t bother me, and I don’t think it’ll bother anyone else. You can make yourself a new history here, you know.”

Magnus takes a drink. The beer is good, and cold. If he knows the taste, it’s another thing he’s forgotten. “What about you?” he asks. “Are you from Raven’s Roost?”

“Born and raised.”

“That’s lucky.”

“It can be.” Kalen sighs. “I mean...it is, I don’t want to seem ungrateful to anyone. My parents died when I was sixteen. Ben and Lucille took me in and gave me work, gave me a home. It’s just...when I was younger, you know. My mom always talked about me going to university, in Neverwinter.”

“Neverwinter.” Magnus sounds out the name, foreign sounding on his tongue.

“Yeah, big city, about ten days from here. They were saving, but I had to use the money to clear some debts and pay for the funeral. I’ve got some stowed away, but...I don’t know.”

“If that’s what you want to do you should do it,” Magnus says.

Kalen raises a brow. “So you’ve got some convictions after all.” He laughs and takes another drink. “I dunno. I mean I really want to, but I’ve got an obligation to Ben and Lucille. Can’t just take off without leaving them some good help.”

“I’m here now.”

Kalen shakes his head. “I think you need me for a bit. Sorry,” he adds. “I’m sure you can take care of yourself, it’s just that you need to learn how things work and... besides. I’m not ready to go.” He scoots his chair forward. “Honestly? I’d be kind of afraid to leave. I mean, this is my home. I can’t...just leave home.”

Magnus nods. He feels like he should know how that feels, but it’s a lot like the jeans. A thought he’s not allowed to have, so he pushes it away.

 

* * *

 

The farm work is easy enough. Magnus takes to it well, finding a sort of solace in the blistering sun as he tills the earth and manages the animals. Kalen had been happy to have someone out there alongside him to talk to, but it turns out there isn’t much time for conversation, though they sit in the upper loft of the barn each afternoon, sharing a thermos of lemonade and eating on ham sandwiches Miss Lucille makes and brings around for lunch each day.

Sundays are for resting, so some Saturday evenings, Kalen and Magnus go into town and have a drink at Eddie’s. Magnus is starting to learn the names of the folks who live and work there, and he’s a little surprised how quickly they seem to take to him.

When he brings it up one evening, Kalen just shrugs and kicks at the dirt in the street. “You’re just...a real genuine guy, I guess.” He stops as they near the edge of town, then grabs Magnus’s arm. “Did you see that?”

“What—”

“There!” Kalen points, and Magnus looks, catching it in his periphery. A shooting star, blazing across the sky. Kalen grins. “Did you make a wish?”

Magnus shakes his head. “Too fast for me. You?”

“Yeah.” Kalen sighs heavily. “Long shot, but I’ll take a free wish when I can get one.”

Magnus smiles. He knows what Kalen wished for — he talks about going to school more and more these days. Not around Ben, he knows better than that. Ben catches wind that Kalen wants to take off, he’ll cut him loose before he’s ready. That’s Kalen’s suspicion, anyway. Magnus thinks Ben might be more amicable to the idea than Kalen believes, and he knows Lucille considers him more a son than a worker. But, Magnus knows, too, that Kalen is afraid of the things that go beyond the borders of Raven’s Roost.

Magnus fears none of that, but he feels safe and he knows, in some part of him, that this is the first time in a long time it’s been this way. And he needs to hold on to that.

 

* * *

 

It’s a usual Saturday at the pub when Kalen brings someone over to meet Magnus.

“This is Julia,” he says. “Steven Waxman’s daughter. They own the carpentry shop in the Corridor. She’s been wanting to meet you for a while and I just thought—”

Kalen keeps going, but Magnus isn’t really listening. He’s still sitting, staring up at this beautiful woman, and the first thing he really notices are her eyes. Sharp and dark brown, almost black against her pupils. Her hair is thick and curly, tied away from her face where freckles pop out against brown skin. Magnus suddenly stands, looming over her awkwardly until he sticks out his hand.

“I’m Magnus.”

“I know,” she says. “Heard a lot about you.”

“Right. Yeah, uh. Right.” He takes a step back, bumping right into the table. “Sorry. I, um—”

Julia laughs and ducks her head.

Kalen clears his throat. “I’m...gonna go get some more beers. You want one, Waxman?”

She nods, looking back up at Magnus. Kalen just nods and leaves them there. At some point he comes back with beers, but makes himself scarce. Magnus spends the night sitting at a table in the corner of the bar, listening to Julia talk. She wears a set of copper bracelets on her arm that tap against one another when she moves.

At some point Kalen makes eye contact with him and winks, heading out with a few of the other men. Magnus knows it must be late, and more than inappropriate for him to stay out, alone, in a bar with someone like Julia — single and a craftsman’s daughter, someone will notice she’s gone — but he can’t think of anything he’d rather do than listen to her talk and answer every single question she asks.

“Will you walk me home?” she finally says, when the bar is suddenly too quiet.

Magnus nods. “Of course,” he says, and they wander out and onto the street, slowly making their way toward the Corridor. Julia tells him she’s lived there all her life, in the houses that line the back of the shops. Her mother died when she was a little girl, and her father’s trained her to take over the shop someday. They stop under the sign,  _Hammer and Tongs_ , and Magnus feels her place her small hand in his.

“I really enjoyed our evening, Magnus.”

“Yeah. Yeah me, too.”

“Kalen went on about you last week when he was in the store and I felt...I felt like I had to meet you.”

Magnus ducks his head and smiles. “I’m glad you did.”

“Yeah.” Julia reaches up and cups his cheek. “So am I.”

 

* * *

 

Kalen’s smug about Julia for a few days. “Knew you’d be a good pair,” he says, more than once. Magnus doesn’t really mind it. He’s still thinking about her soft, beautiful hands and when he might see her again. It distracts him, a bit, but they finish their work that evening all the same.

“You should ask her to the Harvest Festival,” Kalen says.

“Is that the thing Lucille was going on about this afternoon?”

“Yeah. She and Ben are kind of in charge of it. They set it up out near where I found you. Celebrates fall and everything. You should ask her soon, because you’re only one of about ten guys in town who have their eye on Julia Waxman.”

“Damn. Really?”

“Yeah, but she seems to really like you. All the other ones she just puts up with.” Kalen yawns and mumbles something else, but he’s too out of it for Magnus to hear.

In the morning, Ben is in the kitchen swearing up a storm while Lucille whisper-shouts at him to calm down. Magnus comes into the room and sees the source of his frustration — two of the kitchen table legs are broken, most of their breakfast in a sad heap on the floor.

“Just have Steven come out and fix it—”

“Harvest Festival’s in two  _weeks_ , Lucille, that man has enough to do without fixin’ my damn table—”

“I can fix it,” Magnus says, without thinking.

Ben glances up. “Son, you don’t have to do anything like that—”

“No, sir, really. I...I can fix it.” Magnus feels a twitch in his hands. He’s suddenly desperate to get his fingers on the wood of the table, to see where the break is and what he can do with it. He’s not sure where it comes from, but the thought is different from some of the others. He’s allowed to play with this one, to consider where it might have come from, even though he draws a blank.

Ben sighs. “Well, alright. I’ll give you the morning, but you need to get back out there and help Kay with the cows in the afternoon.”

“Yes, sir.” Magnus and Kalen clear all the food and get the table outside.

Kalen whistles and touches some of the splintered wood. “Damn. You sure you can do something with this?”

“I think so.”

“Well, better you than me. I’ll see you at lunch.” He pats Magnus on the back and heads toward the barn.

Magnus cobbles together a few tools from the shed and gets to work. The legs were old and they buckled, so he spends the morning putting them back together, gluing and nailing things until the table seems to hold a good amount of weight. Then, because he’s got a couple hours and a container of stain, he sands it down and darkens the wood before putting a shine on it.

Ben is impressed.

“Well damn, son.” He runs a hand over the wood. “You did all that today?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Huh.” Ben puts a hand on either hip. “That’s somethin’ else, Magnus.” He sighs. “Have some lunch and then you boys finish your work. I’ve got to head into town for a bit.”

Kalen watches him head into the house, then looks back at the table. “Nice work.” He doesn’t ask where Magnus learned how to do any of it — he already knows what the answer will be. They carry the table into the kitchen and then head to the barn for lunch before getting back to work.

Ben doesn’t come back until dinner, and he isn’t alone. When Magnus and Kalen have washed up, they stand with Lucille in the sitting room while Ben leads their guest inside.

“Magnus, this is Steven Waxman. You might know his daughter, Julia.”

Kalen coughs.

Magnus takes Steven’s hand. “Sir.”

Ben nods toward the kitchen table. “Magnus fixed that thing right up this morning, Steve. Just took what I had in the shed and got her lookin’ good as new.”

Steven walks in a wide circle around the table and nods. “Nice work, son.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Lucille sighs. “Can we sit at the damn thing? Let’s feed these boys.” She waves Magnus and Kalen into the kitchen and has them carry the platters to the table.

Ben settles at the head and looks at Steven. “You mentioned you needed help. When I saw what Magnus here could do this morning, I figured you two should meet.”

Magnus stiffens in his chair, suddenly unable to look anywhere but his plate.

“It’s some good work he did, that’s for sure, but I’d have to see more. You have a portfolio or anything Magnus?”

Magnus finally looks up. “No, sir.”

“So you just...learned all of it. Out of the blue.”

“Well, no, I—”

“You said you learned it at a trade school,” Kalen suddenly says, spearing yams on his fork. “Didn’t you?” His expression is earnest and Magnus nods. “Guess we would have seen it sooner, but we don’t do much woodworking around here.”

Ben shakes his head. “No, we sure don’t. But maybe Magnus can come by and take a look around the shop,” he says.

Steven nods. “I’d like that.” He looks at Magnus. “What about you, son? You think you’d want to try lending me a hand?”

Magnus glances at Ben, who nods. “I would, sir. Yes.”

Steven smiles. “ _Perfect._ ”

 

* * *

 

Ben agrees to let Magnus apprentice with Steven three times a week, and they bring on someone else to help Kalen those days on the farm. It’s strange, suddenly eating by himself in the back of Steven’s shop those days, but when he does get to be on the farm, Kalen keeps him updated on what’s happening, how the new help is working out, and wants to know if Magnus and Julia have spent any time together.

“Once,” Magnus says. “She ate lunch with me last week.”

“Practically married,” Kalen coos, and ducks to avoid a swat to the back of the head. “Did you ask her to the Festival yet?”

“Uh, yeah. Yes. Last week. She said yes,” he adds quickly.

Kalen  _crows._  “I knew it! I knew I’d done right by you, Burnsides.” He laughs and takes a long drink of lemonade from the thermos. “Well. Since we’re revealing things to one another, I might as well just come out and say it.” He looks out on the expanse of farm and sighs. “Ben’s selling some of his land. Downsizing before retirement. That means less work to do here. For the both of us.”

“...Are you going to school?”

Kalen grins. “I am.”

Magnus pulls in him close and tousles his hair. “Proud of you,” he says.

Kalen wriggles free and laughs. “Yeah?” Magnus nods. “Well. I’m proud of you, too. You know Steven’s gonna hire you full time, right?”

“Yeah, he mentioned that.”

“It’ll be good for you,” Kalen says. “You’ll really be a part of the town over there.” He presses his hair down. “You know...I envy you, I think.”

Magnus frowns now. “Why?”

“I just...I’ve grown up these last years kind of on the edge. I never felt like I belonged, you know? If I’d been taken in by someone in the Corridor I feel like it’d be different. I mean I appreciate Ben and Lucille, I really do. I just…”

“It’s been hard,” Magnus says.

Kalen nods. “Yeah. Yeah it has.”

Magnus puts a hand on his shoulder. He wants to say that he’s sorry, but the idea of it rings hollow before he can even open his mouth. The silence isn’t awkward, though. It’s a comforting one, between two friends, suddenly thrust down different paths. Ben will sell most of the farm, eventually. Kalen will go away and Magnus will move to the Corridor.

“I’ll be back every summer,” Kalen says. He must sense the creeping melancholy. “And I don’t start until after the Harvest Festival, same as you.”

Magnus nods. “Then we’ve got time together yet.”

Kalen smiles. “Yeah. We’ve got time.”

 

* * *

 

This Harvest Festival is Ben and Lucille’s last. After, someone else will take over, as has been tradition, Magnus learns. From Julia, who plants herself beside him that night and doesn’t move. He’s keenly aware of Steven’s gaze on them, and Kalen’s smug expression, but each time Julia pulls him out to dance under the lights, all that fades away.

Magnus feels bound to her, tighter and tighter still, every time he’s allowed to hold her. They don’t need to kiss or be any closer than they’re allowed to be for him to know this, and Julia seems keenly aware of the effect she’s having on him. With a jolt Magnus realizes — he’s doing the same to her.

He doesn’t want the evening to end. It’s been an entire day of people showing off what they’ve made, tourists buying everything in sight, and endless tables of food.

Kalen’s leaving in the morning for Neverwinter, and the day before was their last full day of work together on Ben’s farm. Come Monday, most of it won’t even belong to him anymore, and Magnus will live in the little flat above the Hammer and Tongs.

It’s late and Julia and her father have left when Kalen hands Magnus one last beer and they wander away from the lights of the festival.

“It’s been a good night,” Kalen says quietly, when they finally settle on a spot. They’re only a handful of feet away from the edge of a cliff, looking down into a deep gorge below. “I wish you could come with me.”

“I’m not cut out for school,” Magnus says, though he does sometimes wish he could give it a try. Working for hours at reading an entire book can’t be so different from clearing a field, he reasons. He wonders of Kalen feels the same.

“Well, I’ll teach you things when I come back,” Kalen offers. “You can read some of my books.”

Magnus nudges him with his shoulder. “Yeah, alright. Good deal.”

Kalen smiles. “I’ll miss you. I’ll miss  _this_ ,” he says, point out toward the gorge. “But I’m…”

“You’re happy to get away.” Kalen nods. “Yeah, I know. I’m happy for you.”

They lean back and finish off their drinks, watching the stars overhead. Kalen points as something streaks across the sky, and this time around, Magnus is able to make a wish.

He has a lot to choose from — that what he has with Julia will become something more, or that he’ll be successful with his new job. Little things that could come true, shooting star or not.

A little desperately, he wishes that things won’t change. Not that nothing new will happen at all, or that things won’t be a little different a year from now. _Just._..the feeling. He wants to be this happy forever, and he wants Kalen and everyone else to feel the same.

It’s a silly wish, the sort of thing children ask for. But Magnus can’t remember much of being a child, so he has to do these things now.

Watching the sky overhead, it feels possible that his wish might come true, even as everything around him starts to change.


	2. the king of swords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The right,” he says again, “to my left.” He holds the sword in the other hand and says, “Together—”
> 
> “They make a fist.” Magnus looks from Kalen’s hand to his face.
> 
> This, he realizes, is the moment when it all changes. There is a part of him that recognizes a tyrant when he sees one. All these years, he named one his brother, drank from the same cup as him, laughed over drinks and about women with him. If he takes that hand, he knows, everything will change, including himself. If he refuses then he loses Kalen. For good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to bluemoodblue and marywhal for looking over this for me, as well as lividsilk/silkrumi and xerxians! i'm so glad people are enjoying the story, it means a lot.

_The King of Swords is a symbol of intellectual power and authority, and has the courage and intellect to accomplish all that he desires. He represents judgment, command, and rulership._

 

* * *

 

The first year without Kalen rushes past. Magnus had expected it to drag, but suddenly the day is there when he’s walking down the street, after doing some repairs at the inn, and Kalen is walking right toward him. Kalen grins, a thing so familiar that Magnus  _runs_ , full sprint, and gathers him up in his arms.

“ _Magnus!_ Magnus, I can’t  _breathe_ —”

“You’re back!” Magnus sets him down and laughs. “I was wondering how I’d find you today. I was gonna head over to Ben’s—”

“I’m staying there,” Kalen says, “but I’m working at the governor’s office.”

“Hey, that’s great! I want to hear about everything. Come back to the shop with me. I’ll see what’s left to do.”

Kalen nods and falls into step beside Magnus as they head toward the Corridor. He talks about school, and Magnus is happy to listen, happy to see that Kalen is happy, after all this time. Steven lets him have the rest of the day, and the two of them find themselves at their usual table at the pub.

While Kalen shakes hands with the regulars, Magnus gets two beers and wades through the crowd. “Alright, alright—” He pushes Eddie to the side. “Give him some space, you can hear about how amazing Neverwinter is on your own time.”

Everyone eventually gets back to their own business. Kalen taps his glass to Magnus and drinks deeply. “I missed this,” he says.

“What, there’s no beer in Neverwinter?”

“Oh, no, there’s  _tons_  of beer in Neverwinter. You can find anything you want there, just...it’s not Eddie’s beer, and I don’t get to sit here with you.” Kalen shrugs and leans back. He’s dressed in a nice three piece suit, the jacket slung over the back of the chair. He unbuttons the cuffs and folds back the sleeves. “But I’ll miss the cafes this summer.” He takes another drink. “You learn more in places like that, places like  _these_  than you do in school, Mags. Trust me.”

“What, they have classes or something?”

Kalen laughs. “No. They have discussions. They talk about what matters, without all the red tape of the university. No one’s worried about losing their tenure because they think the duke’s council needs to be dissolved.”

Magnus doesn’t know anything about the duke or his council, but he nods along all the same.

Kalen continues. “I mean, these guys had never even  _heard_  of Raven’s Roost, did you know that?”

Magnus raises a brow. “I sort of doubt that.”

“I did, too! I tried to tell them what it was, but they’d never heard of the Corridor or anything like that.” He shakes his head. “It just seems like...like what we offer isn’t important.”

“Everyone knows that Raven’s Roost supplies a huge amount of crops to Neverwinter,” Magnus says. “Sounds to me like they’ve got their heads up their asses.”

Kalen shrugs. “I don’t know. These are academics, Magnus. I mean...don’t get me wrong, what you do—what Steven and Ben do—is a skill. It’s unique. But these men understand how the world  _works_ , Magnus. If Raven’s Roost doesn’t matter to them, does it really matter to anyone?”

Magnus feels his neck grow hot. “This is your  _home_ , Kalen. If it matters to you, then that should be enough.”

Kalen seems to sense Magnus’s frustration, and he nods quickly, backing down from the issue. “No, you’re right. You’re absolutely right.” He takes another drink. “Let’s talk about something else. Tell me about Julia,” he says, and leans forward. “How’s that going?”

The subject change is crude, and Magnus still feels irritated, but talking about Julia is relaxing. Kalen laughs in all the right places, and Magnus knows if he stays like this long enough, it’ll be easy to pretend that things are the way they’ve always been. He knows things are changing, but he wants to  _feel_  the same — about his friend, about his life — always.

Watching Kalen grow more and more distracted as the afternoon wears on, Magnus starts to understand — sometimes that’s just not possible.

 

* * *

 

He has dinner with Ben and Lucille for the first time in a while. Kalen fits in the same as ever, even with his new clothes. Lucille fusses over him, complaining he’s too thin while Ben talks with Magnus about selling the last bit of his land.

“If you’re interested, son, I’d be willing to sell at a decent price.” He shrugs. “You could build a house. I know you’re sweet on Steven’s girl.”

Magnus’s face flushes and Kalen chokes a little on his milk.

“I’d, uh, I’d like that,” Magnus says. “But I’ll have to see.”

Ben chuckles. “Well, you let me know. It’s how I got my Lucille,” he says, reaching out to take her hand as she settles into her spot at the table. “I told her old man, I said, ‘I’ve got a hundred acres and a heart full of love.’ He told me to come back when I had something I could actually sell.”

“I married him anyway,” Lucille says. “Julia’s a good girl, Magnus.” She turns to Kalen. “There’s some nice girls here who’d be more than happy to be seen with a young man who counts himself as a friend of the governor.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Kalen says, “but I need to focus on school.”

When Magnus heads out that night, he pulls Kalen aside. “Let me know if you want to get away. I know they can be...a lot.”

Kalen looks over his shoulder as Ben and Lucille clean up the table. “I’m alright,” he says, and smiles. Magnus feels a surge of relief — Kalen looks and sounds like his old self again. If that’s all the time it takes for things to go back to the way they should be, then Magnus isn’t as worried. A second year away can’t be much worse than one.

 

* * *

 

That year’s Harvest Festival marks the end of the summer and Kalen’s return to Neverwinter. Magnus says goodbye, but with less trepidation than before. All of this is temporary. Kalen will be done in a few years, and he can come home and make Raven’s Roost a place those snooty academics will know the name of.

So while Kalen is away, Magnus doesn’t worry. He makes plans and saves his gold. In the winter, he buys some of Ben’s land and starts to build a little house.

He writes to Kalen —  _Steven’s found out about the house and the land. I think he realizes my intentions. Doesn’t seem too put out by it, but he’s given me more work recently. I don’t think it’s a punishment. I think he’s trying to teach me. Everything I know these days, I learned from him. You take that to your coffee shop friends, tell them about men like Steven, who build things they couldn’t even dream up._

Kalen writes back —  _These men aren’t interested in trades like carpentry, though considering the shoddy construction around the university I think more people should be. But they hardly have the time to consider such pursuits. Many of them are published authors. A few have told me my ideas are worth writing down, and one even said he’d speak to his literary agent for me._

Their letters are like this — as if they’re in the same room, holding two separate conversations. After a while, the responses from Kalen start to dwindle. Eventually, Magnus stops writing at all.

He’s still not worried, though. He trusts his friend will remember his roots, and remember their promise to one another at the end of the summer.

When Kalen finally returns home again, it’s harder for Magnus to find him. He isn’t staying with Ben and Lucille, and the woman at the governor’s office tells him that Kalen is incredibly busy and can’t be bothered until well after lunch. Magnus leaves a message for him to meet at Eddie’s and sits himself that evening at their usual table, watching the door.

It’s nearly seven when Kalen finally rushes in. Magnus has had two beers on his own already, but he doesn’t really feel them until he stands, swaying on his feet as Kalen comes over and embraces him.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. “And if Ruth was rude to you I’m even sorrier about that.”

“It’s fine,” Magnus says, and passes a server some coin for two more drinks. “I’m just glad you got out.”

“Oh gods, me too.” Kalen shakes his head and shrugs off his jacket. “I got into town a few days ago, but as soon as I did they put me to work. And they put me up in a nice place near the office with a few of the other assistants.”

“You’re an  _assistant_  to the governor?” Magnus asks.

Kalen grins. “It’s great, right? I get to be  _right_  there, watching them make decisions.” He leans back as their beers are brought to the table. “Cheers,” he says, and takes a long drink. He sets his glass down, adjusts his sleeves and sighs. “Frustrating beyond belief, though. To watch those council meetings.”

Magnus raises a brow. Julia’s father is on the city council, has been for more than twenty years. Magnus knows he relishes in those meetings, comes back to the shop in a good mood no matter what. “A spirited debate!” he always says, when Magnus asks what happened that day.

“Are they boring?”

Kalen shakes his head. “No, just...full of trivial matters. Things that the governor could just decide on his own. Irrigation regulations or where a new store should be put in. I mean, the process is almost infantile, Magnus. These grown adults bicker with one another for  _hours_  over whether or not they should move the voting dates for government positions next election! That’s so  _easily_  decided!”

“Yeah, but that’s the point of the council. They represent the different blocks of the city, they were elected—”

“I know how  _democracy_  works,” Kalen snaps. “I just think Raven’s Roost is a poor fit for it.”

Magnus doesn’t know how to respond. Kalen angrily drains most of his glass, now hunched over the table. “What?” he says, when he catches Magnus staring.

“...Nothing. Just...it sounds like it was a long day.”

Kalen sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. “It was. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t...I shouldn’t take it out on you. It’s not like any of this  _means_  something to you anyway.”

“Well...it does, I guess. I live here, too.”

“Right, of course. I just mean—” Kalen waves a hand between them. “You have what you’re good at and I have what I’m good at.” He shrugs. “That’s all.”

Magnus has a few things to say to that, but he doesn’t want to fight. He wants to enjoy his friend and talk about his plans to propose, though Kalen doesn’t ask after Julia this time. Magnus offers to show him how the house is coming along, but Kalen insists he’s tired and promises to stop by the shop later in the week so they can make the trip over.

They make it out that Friday afternoon. Magnus is eager to show off, and Kalen admires the build, all the quality wood going into the foundation.

“It’s sturdy,” he says. “It’s going to last. Because it was built by two hands with  _skill._ ”

Magnus nods, unsure now of where this is going. “...Right.”

Kalen stops under the doorway leading into the unfinished kitchen, pressing a hand to one of oak beams. “Sound construction. It was just you that did this, wasn’t it?”

“It was.”

Kalen nods. Doesn’t say much else about this. He looks around and smiles. “Julia’s going to love it.” He crosses the room and puts a hand on Magnus’s shoulder. “Promise you won’t get married until I come back for good.”

Magnus laughs, happy to fall back into  _this_  again. “Wasn’t planning on it. She has to agree first,” he says, as they head back into town to have a drink.

 

* * *

 

Magnus proposes at Candlenights, while the sounds of celebration fade around them. He gives Julia a sturdy ring carved from rosewood, and she throws herself into his arms after she says yes. Steven embraces Magnus, and says in his ear, “Now you’re truly my son.”

Magnus wishes for a moment he’d waited until summer, so Kalen could be there and he could have his  _brother_  with him too. He writes —  _I realize I never said it enough, but you took me in without question and helped me find my family. I wouldn’t have stayed in Raven’s Roost if it weren’t for you. I wouldn’t have found my love and my life, I wouldn’t have become who I am. I don’t have much to give you for Candlenights, but I hope this little duck will be enough to remind you of me and of home._

Kalen’s response is his first in months.  _You’re a brother to me as well, Magnus. I was afraid to do what I should have done years ago, and you helped me move on. Raven’s Roost feels like less and less of a home for me, until I remember that you’re there, and Ben and Lucille will always be there. Please give Julia my regards, and I’ll keep the duck where I study, so I’ll always know what I’m really doing this all for._   _I’ve little gold to spare, but I thought you might enjoy this — it’s a journal with a leather bound cover made by a local craftsman here in Neverwinter. Doesn’t compare to Arthur’s work with leather in the Corridor, but its precision and craftsmanship reminded me of you._

Magnus is pleased with this. Proof his friend is still his friend, and more than that — his brother. He writes back, but receives no reply. This doesn’t trouble him. There are wedding plans to make. In the spring he’ll finish work on the house and buy his first animals, plant his first seeds.

He steps outside the shop one afternoon and remembers, for the first time in a long time, what he does not remember — that he came from somewhere else, somewhere far from here, he assumes. His body is still sometimes strange to him, and he will wake in the night remembering hands in his or laughter in his ear. There is something he is missing, but he has no way of getting it.

And, for maybe the first time, that doesn’t bother him.

If he forgot it, maybe it was worth forgetting. If he was taken from where he was born and left here, it was for a  reason.

To meet Julia. To love Julia. To meet Kalen and find a brother. To find a father in Steven.

Magnus breathes the air of Raven’s Roost and is so glad to be alive.

 

* * *

 

Kalen doesn’t come back his last summer before graduating. He writes to Magnus:  _I’ve been given a prestigious apprenticeship with a writer in the city, which the governor thinks will be very good for me. It may even give me the chance to get my ideas published._  He goes on for a page about some of his theories, which Magnus understands, but struggles with all the same. Ideas about absolute rule and the hazards of representative government. There are comments about art and its uselessness that Magnus finds jarring, but he finally gets to the last part, and it makes him smile:

_When I’m finally home, we’ll do what we said. I’ll let you read more of my work. I think you’ll really grasp it when once I’m there to explain it. Please send my regards to Ben and Lucille._

Magnus folds the letter and tucks it away into his collection.

When he comes down from his loft, Julia is standing in the doorway of the shop talking with the baker, Royce. She turns as Magnus descends the stairs and smiles. The sun strikes her hair and there’s a gentle glow that grows around her. Magnus just…stares.

“Looks like I’m keepin’ you two apart,” Royce says, and ducks out. Julia laughs and crosses the room, while Magnus takes her in his arms and kisses the top of her head.

“How’s Kalen?”

“Oh, he’s fine. Being an academic in the city.” Magnus doesn’t mention any of the things Kalen put in the letter. Julia pulls back, looking up with a brow raised. Magnus frowns. “What?”

“You’re disappointed, aren’t you?”

“That he’s not here?” She nods. “...Yeah, I guess I am. I was hoping I could talk him into helping me finish up the house, get things ready.” Magnus shrugs. “Like we used to.”

“You miss those days.”

“On Ben’s farm? Yeah. Yeah I do.” Magnus pulls her back in. “But I’m glad for these days, too. And the ones ahead.”

Julia sighs, happy. “Big  _sap_.”

 

* * *

 

Magnus had thought that finishing school and returning to Raven’s Roost would make Kalen easier to find, but it only makes him busier. Magnus can barely get a moment with the receptionist at the governor’s office and, after an hour, gives up.

More than a week passes after that. He doesn’t hear from Kalen or see him at the pub. Folks ask where he is, and though Magnus knows he’s back, he can’t really say. Julia suggests he stop by the house where he was staying before, but no one is home.

It’s three weeks before Kalen comes by the shop, hat in hand.

“I’m...here to apologize.”

Magnus looks up from the chair he’s sanding, and finds there’s really no room for anger. He embraces Kalen without a thought, pulling him close.

“It’s good to see you,” he says.

Kalen laughs. “You, too, Mags.” He gestures toward the door. “Can I steal you away? I’ve...got some pretty big news.”

Magnus nods and sets down his tools, running into the back to tell Steven he’s going out. Kalen suggests they walk to the little house Magnus has been building, and Magnus feels a little thrill go through him. There’s still so much work to do, and he wonders if he could convince Kalen to help.

Kalen admires the house as much as he did the first time he saw it, commenting on the woodwork and the solid build.

“You really did an amazing job, Magnus.” He slides his hands into his pockets. “When will you move in?”

“After we’re married. In the fall sometime, was our hope. Now that you’re back,” he adds.

Kalen nods. “I’m glad to be here for that.” He’s happy, Magnus can tell, but he’s...different, somehow. It’s not a bad thing, but Magnus struggles to place thinkable with the one he’s come to know over the years.

“Is...everything okay?”

Kalen nods. “Everything is great, Magnus.” He stops pacing the room. “The governor’s term is ending at the end of the month. He’s going to nominate me to take his place.”

“...Are you serious?” Kalen nods and Magnus laughs. “That’s...that’s amazing! I mean, it is if you want it.”

“Of course I want it,” Kalen says. “How could I refuse? A chance to do what we said we would? To make Raven’s Roost a place everyone will know? Magnus, this is the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sure the council will vote for you.”

Kalen stiffens. “Right. Of course, the council.” The council voted to accept a governor’s nomination, and there was usually no debate, from what Magnus understood. Kalen’s face is twisted with...contempt, for just a moment, before he grins that familiar grin and nods. “I’m sure they will, too. I only want good things for Raven’s Roost,” he says.

Magnus...believes him, for the most part. Why would Kalen want anything else? This is a place they both love, and Magnus knows with help from the Corridor and the other neighborhoods, Kalen can be successful.

It doesn’t help that he can’t shake this feeling, though. He still has the letters, he knows how Kalen feels about the council, about the way the town is run.

But Kalen seems...happy. And Magnus desperately just wants to hold onto the feelings of the years and summers before.

When the governor announces his nomination, Kalen’s town is proud.

When the council approves him, everyone is happy.

And, for a while, everything goes back to the way it was.

 

* * *

 

Steven comes into the shop one afternoon after a council meeting, completely silent. It’s unusual for him, and Julia notices straight away.

“Hey, is everything—”

“Kalen dissolved the council.” Steven’s face is pale, and he’s sweating bullets. Julia gets a handkerchief and wipes at his brow. “Thank you, love.”

“Dad, what do you mean?”

“I  _mean_  that we were in session and he stood and...and he quoted a bit from the town charter, and then he...sent us home.”

Julia frowns. “Can he do that?”

“Yes,” Magnus says. He knows these rules, he learned them from Kalen a few years back. “A new governor can opt to maintain an existing council, or dissolve it and either nominate their own members or call for a special election.”

Steven nods. “That’s what he said. He thanked us for our service and he...he just. He walked out.”

Julia shakes her head. “He shouldn’t have done that. He’s been governor less than a month, he doesn’t know what he needs yet.”

Magnus almost tells her that, for Kalen, it isn’t about what he needs. It’s about what he thinks Raven’s Roost needs. Before he can change his mind, Magnus takes off his apron and hangs it on a hook in the workshop.

“I’m gonna go try and talk some sense into him.”

Julia turns to him. “Magnus—”

“It’ll be alright.” He kisses her cheek and puts a reassuring hand on Steven’s shoulder before heading out.

Julia follows him into the street, calling after him. “Magnus,  _wait._ ” She reaches up and cups his face in her hands, pulling him down for a kiss. Magnus holds her close, closing his eyes and wondering why this feels...final. He knows it isn’t. He knows it can’t be.

“It’s okay,” he says.

She nods. “I know. I just...I can’t shake this  _feeling._ ”

“I’ll talk to him.” Magnus brushes the hair from her face and kisses her forehead. “Everything’s going to be fine,” he says, and heads to the governor’s office.

It takes him an hour to finally see Kalen, but this time around Magnus is fine waiting. Kalen’s hunched over a stack of documents on his desk as his secretary shows Magnus in and shuts the door. Kalen doesn’t look up until Magnus clears his throat.

He grins when he sees him. Magnus feels a pang of relief, like maybe all this has just been a mistake. He finds himself smiling, and the two men meet in the middle of the room.

“Sit, sit,” Kalen says, and pulls out a chair. He settles behind his desk again and spreads his arms wide. “So? What do you think?”

“It’s a nice office.”

“It’s got a great view of town,” he says, and glances out the window. “It’s like...a canvas, Magnus. I can plan and...and really  _think._ ”

“Yeah.” Magnus moves his chair forward. “Listen, Kay...Steven came home today in a state. Now you’re my friend. You’re...you’re my  _brother_ ,” he says, as he sees Kalen’s face fall. “But you have to help me understand.”

Kalen sighs and stands, going to the window and looking out at the town below. He has his hands clasped behind his back and, from this angle, his profile belongs to a man Magnus doesn’t know. Magnus blinks a few times, tries to change his perspective, but the image stays.

It’s only when Kalen turns back to him, that familiar smile on his face, that Magnus can see his friend again. “Tell Steven I’m sorry. I fully intend to speak with each council member one on one, but I felt it was necessary. I need fresh eyes, Magnus. People who have a different perspective. Truthfully, I want people like Julia on the council.”

“You broke her father’s heart today,” Magnus says. “I don’t think she’s keen on seeing much of you until you fix this.”

Kalen nods. “Right, no that makes perfect sense. I just...you know I wanted to change things here, Magnus. I had to start with the council.”

“I understand, but those people know this town better than anyone. Steven’s sat on it for twenty years. I know,” he says quickly, before Kalen can protest, “that you want certain things. But you can’t ignore that some experience would be good for any council. Even if it’s just a few of them.”

Kalen nods and goes to sit behind his desk again. “You’re right,” he says. “Of course, you’re right. I’ll talk with them this week, and I’ll get this sorted. I just...I have plans for this town, Magnus. We’re not going to need to rely on the Corridor anymore.”

Magnus stiffens in his chair. “What does that mean?”

Kalen sits up straighter, shifting things around on his desk. “It means we’re moving forward, Magnus. You don’t have anything to worry about,” he adds, looking up. “Trust me.”

“I do. I’m just having a hard time understanding your meaning. The Corridor is a vital part of this town. We make our living there. It’s not just to make tourists happy.” Magnus feels his neck grow hot. “This...this isn’t just about making a name for ourselves. I’m going to get  _married_. I want a family. I have to  _support them_ —”

“Magnus!” Kalen raises his hands. “Don’t  _worry._  There’s going to be a place for you in this.”

“And what, exactly, is  _this?_ ” Magnus demands. “All you ever do is talk about...about these vague plans you have for the future. Well, you’re in charge now, and those people out there—” Magnus points to the window. “They’re looking to you for  _guidance._  You can’t tell them that their livelihoods aren’t necessary anymore and expect them to take that lying down.”

“There will be a  _new_  infrastructure, Magnus, these things don’t happen overnight. I am not  _closing_  down the Corridor. I have no intention—”

“Then make your intentions known, dammit!” Magnus gets up from his chair just as Kalen does, and now,  _now_  — they’re both creatures Magnus doesn’t recognize.

The air  _sparks_  between them for a moment, until Kalen’s shoulders relax and Magnus sees his friend again.

“I’m sorry,” Kalen says. “You’ll understand everything soon.” He comes around the desk and puts a hand on Magnus’s shoulder. It does nothing for the tension now living there. “I promise.”

Magnus leaves without saying goodbye. He tosses and turns that night, guilty over his outburst, frightened for his future, afraid of what he might have lost.

When he closes his eyes, he can still feel himself lying in the dirt, eyes trained on the sky as a face leans over him, as a friend takes his hand.

 

* * *

 

Kalen doesn’t bring Steven back to the council, and he doesn’t ask Julia to join it either. Magnus isn’t allowed to see him when he goes around a week later to apologize, so he leaves a letter asking Kalen to meet him at the house that night for a drink. He’s not all that surprised when Kalen doesn’t show.

Julia’s disappointed when he comes into the shop reeking of whiskey and doesn’t kiss him goodnight. In the morning, though, she brings him water and something for the headache and sits on the edge of his bed while he breathes and  _breathes._  Magnus doesn’t have to say a word for her to know what’s wrong. She leans down and kisses his temple.

“You knew this might happen,” she murmurs. “You knew you might grow apart if he left.”

“I did. I just...didn’t expect it to be like this.”

Julia smooths his hair back and strokes his brow. Every touch from her is a comfort, every word from her lips a blessing. Magnus is beyond lucky to have her, to be  _loved_  by her. When the weight of not knowing himself becomes too great, she can anchor him.

Pulling her into bed with him is easy. She’s pliant and soft under his hands, agreeable when he undoes the buttons of her dress and kisses down her neck and chest. He pulls the pin from her hair and it cascades down her back and into his hands. Magnus buries his face in it and inhales, letting the scent of her ground him.

They don’t make love often — she lives apart from him and Steven is always around. But this morning he’s at home, and the shop can stay closed for a little while longer. Julia gasps as Magnus fills her, and he sits up, clutching her to his chest, keeping his eyes on her all the while. She holds his face in her hands, letting him lift her with ease. At the crest she cries out, tossing her head back and giving him access to long the column of her neck.

They both shudder into the finish as Magnus falls back against his pillows and brings her with him. She kisses him fervently — his cheeks and lips and brow, down his neck and over his shoulders. Magnus closes his eyes and breathes deep, feeling the troubles of the weeks past slowly dissipate in her wake.

“I love you,” she says, and kisses him again.

Magnus cups her cheek and nods. “I love you too, Jules.”

 

* * *

 

It’s late one evening when someone banging on the door of the shop rouses Magnus. He stumbles down the stairs, turns the locks, and finds Kalen leaning against the wall, a bottle hanging loosely between his fingers.

“Hey,  _Magnus!_ ”

“What the  _hell_ are you doing?” Magnus asks, and pulls him inside, maneuvering him to a chair.

Kalen drops the bottle and it clatters to the floor, the acrid smell of cheap liquor filling the room. Magnus picks it up quickly and throws a towel to the floor, chucking the bottle into the bin.

“You wanted to meet me at your house. But I couldn’t. And then I went there because I thought that you…” Kalen covers his mouth with his hand and shudders. “Thought you might be there now, but it’s empty.” He looks up. “Why’s it empty, Mags?”

“After the wedding,” Magnus says, and pulls up another chair. “Hey.” He pats Kalen’s cheek to get his attention. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”

Kalen shrugs. “Don’t know.” He toys with the arm of the chair. “Maybe you can tell me. You hate me now, right?”

Magnus sighs. “No,” he says, and takes Kalen’s hand. “I don’t hate you. I’m just...I’m confused. And I’m scared.”

Kalen manages to sit up mostly straight and leans forward, taking Magnus’s other hand. “Of  _what?_  Of change? Magnus, it’s coming. Change will always come. You can’t stop that. Did you think we’d just...we’d be boys working on the farm together all our lives? Is this—” He looks around the store. “Is this what  _you_ want? For your  _whole_  life?”

“No,” Magnus says. “Of course not. That’s why I’m marrying Julia. We’re going to have a family,” Magnus says. “All of  _this_  is a means to an end. If I make chairs until I die, it won’t be my greatest achievement.” He reaches out and cups the back of Kalen’s neck, smiling. “You...understand that, right?”

Kalen nods. “Yeah. Yeah I do.” He gives Magnus’s hand a squeeze. “I just...I need to know that you’ve got my back, Magnus.”

“Kalen—”

“ _No._ ” Kalen pulls away. “You...you have to tell me. I have to hear it, I have to  _know._ ” He breathes. “Do you have  _my back_ , Magnus?”

Magnus sighs. “Yes. Yes,  _of course I_ do.”

“Swear.”

Magnus nods. “I swear,” he says.

Kalen relaxes, pitching forward. Magnus grasps him, holds him close for a moment.

“That’s all I needed,” Kalen murmurs. “S’all I needed to hear.” He grips the sleeve of Magnus’s shirt. “You have to. Because we’re brothers.”

Magnus nods. “We are,” he says, and for the first time in a while it feels like they are.

Idly, Magnus wonder if he should have been more specific, years ago, wishing on his first shooting star.

 

* * *

 

He hears that people are gathering before he learns what Kalen plans to do.

Julia bursts into the shop and grabs Magnus’s hand, pulling him outside and toward the governor’s office. “Kalen had soldiers tell the shops in the West District he’s tearing them down, he—”

“ _Soldiers?_ ” Magnus shakes his head. “We don’t have soldiers.”

Julia glances toward him. “We do now,” she says.

Magnus doesn’t see them until they reach the edge of the crowd. They’re standing in a solid wall between the people shouting and the office. Magnus doesn’t recognize them, doesn’t even know when they would have arrived. They’re certainly not locals, he can tell that straight away. He turns to Julia. “Stay here,” he says, and moves through the crowd.

He spots Eddie snarling at the front and calls to him. “What the hell’s going on?”

Eddie turns, his face twisted in anger. “He’s  _tearin’ it all down!_ ”

“Easy, Eddie!” Magnus grabs the man by his shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

“Your old  _pal_ ,” Eddie snaps. “He’s tearing down every building on my street to build...build a  _factory!_ ” He spits the word. Magnus lets him go and makes his way toward one of the soldiers at the end of the line.

“I need to speak with the governor!” he shouts over the din.

“No one speaks to the governor today.”

“Please,” Magnus insists. “My name is Magnus Burnsides. Governor Kalen and I are friends. He’ll want to see me.”

“I can’t, sir.”

“ _Look_ ,” Magnus says. “These people aren’t going to get any calmer. I know them, and I know the governor. Either you tell him I’m here, or I can make this whole situation a lot harder for you.”

The soldier looks Magnus up and down, then nods. “Right,” he says. “If you’re lying, I’ll arrest you.”

Magnus sighs and raises his hands. “Fair enough.”

He waits for ten minutes until the soldier comes back and nods curtly, pulling Magnus through the line and onto the other side.

The courtyard in front of the governor’s office is empty. Magnus has never seen it this way before. He feels like he’s crossed into another world as the shouts and protests of the crowd fade behind him. The soldier leads him through the door and up the stairs to Kalen’s office, knocking sharply on the door.

“Come in.”

The soldier nods to Magnus one last time and leaves him there.

Magnus takes a breath and opens the door.

It looks the same as the last time he was there, except now there’s a large map of Faerun pinned to the wall behind the desk, and most of the clutter has been cleared. Kalen looks worse than usual, but he seems relieved to see Magnus amid all the chaos.

“I’m glad it’s you,” he says.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Magnus closes the door behind him. “What’re you doing, Kalen?”

Kalen points out the window. “I told you, Magnus. This is my  _canvas._  This is where I build  _anew._ ”

He goes to the window and throws it open, leaning so far out Magnus worries he’ll fall. “Raven’s Roost is ailing. It needs a firm and steady hand. A surgeon to repair what’s damaged.” He pulls himself back in.

“We are not  _damaged_ ,” Magnus says. “Where did you get that idea?”

“I can see it!” Kalen points to the map behind the desk. “Do you know what the other cities in Faerun are like? They’re cities of industry and progress! We’re  _falling behind!_ ”

“We don’t need to be like everyone else,” Magnus says. “Kalen,  _please._  This is your home—”

“It is.” Kalen nods and places a hand over the map where Raven’s Roost is marked. “And  _you’re_  the stranger here. You think you know better than me what my home needs?”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Kalen turns to him. “Raven’s Roost is living in the past, Magnus. Can’t you feel it? Can’t you feel the sickness?”

Magnus feels desperate now. He doesn’t recognize this man. This man who called him first friend, then brother _._  He goes to Kalen and puts a hand on either shoulder.

“Kalen, this town isn’t  _sick._  It only wants your guidance. You know this place and everyone here knows and loves you. Ben and Lucille took you in.  _You_  took  _me_  in.  _That’s_  what Raven’s Roost means! There is nothing wrong with it. We can find other ways to make it flourish, but you can’t build a  _wall_ between yourself and them.” They both look toward the window, listen to the angry crowd.

“Why not?” Kalen asks. “Your house, Magnus. What if you’d let just anyone help? What if you’d had the baker build your roof or the brewer do your pipes? You have a specialist’s hand, Magnus.” He lifts his own. “ _I’m_ the specialis _t. I’m_ the surgeon _._ ” He taps his temple. “Only I have the insight, Magnus. It’s why I  _dissolved_ the council.  _Craftsmen_.” He spits out the word. “Deciding what needs to be done for an entire town.”

Magnus lets go of him. “Is that what you think of me then? I’m just...just a craftsman to you?”

“What? No—”

“You once told me that that  _mattered._  You once  _envied_  me. You pushed me to become this!”

“Yes, but things have changed. I have something better for you to do.” He puts a hand on Magnus’s chest. “Just...just hold on. Please, don’t go,” he says, and rushes out of the office. Magnus stands there, feeling that familiar sensation of missing of limbs and parts all over again. Now, more than ever, he wishes he knew where he came from so he could run back to it.

But he’s here, trapped and afraid.

Kalen comes back in with a sword in his hands. Magnus backs away.

“No,” Kalen says quickly. “No.” He holds it out. “It’s for you.”

Magnus looks from Kalen to the blade. “... _What?_ ”

“Go on.” Kalen moves closer. “Hold it. Tell me how it feels.”

Tentatively, Magnus reaches out, grasping the blade by the hilt. He holds the scabbard in his other hand and slowly unsheathes the sword.

It’s beautiful craftsmanship, sturdy and strong. He catches his reflection in the steel — frightened, awestruck, anguished. Does Kalen read those things in him? Can he tell that Magnus is afraid?

Everything is slipping. Everything—

“I want you to stand by me,” Kalen says. “I’m going to do things that...that people won’t like. They’ll hate me for it. But you...oh, Magnus. They love you.”

“Kalen—”

Kalen reaches out and takes the sword, sheathing it in its scabbard again. “I need you to be my right hand, Magnus. The right hand to my left. When I decide something, you’ll be there to make sure they understand. You’ll make sure they know that it’s what’s  _best_  for them. Those men out there, those soldiers—”

“Where did they  _come_ from?” Magnus asks.

“I hired them. It’s taken weeks, but I managed it.” Kalen laughs weakly. “Impressive, aren’t they? Not really loyal to a fault, but...that’s why I need you. To lead them. To be my direct line to the town.”

He holds out his left hand. “The right,” he says again, “to my left.” He holds the sword in the other hand and says, “Together—”

“They make a fist.” Magnus looks from Kalen’s hand to his face.

This, he realizes, is the moment when it all changes. There is a part of him that recognizes a tyrant when he sees one. All these years, he named one his brother, drank from the same cup as him, laughed over drinks and about women with him. If he takes that hand, he knows, everything will change, including himself. If he refuses then he loses Kalen. For good.

Magnus takes a breath to calm himself, to steady his trembling legs.

“No,” he says. “I can’t.”

Kalen’s eye twitches. “You promised, Magnus. That night, you  _promised_  you’d have my back—”

“I didn’t mean about  _this!_  About...about subjugating an entire town!”

Kalen’s face contorts in anger. He drops his left hand, reaches for the sword and draws it from the scabbard. Magnus side steps him, and they switch places. Magnus begins to back away toward the door.

“Kalen, please. Please try to understand—”

“I do understand,” he says. “I understand that you have  _never_  been what I thought you were.” He points to the door. “Go!” he shouts. “Go and  _be with them!_  You just remember.” Kalen drops the sword, and it clatters to the floor. “I am the one who  _found you_  in the dust, Magnus Burnsides. I am the one who brought you here. You  _owe me_  your  _life!_ ”

“I repaid you,” Magnus says. “My debt to you is clear. Kalen, don’t make me do this. Don’t make me fight you.”

“Fight me,” Kalen snaps. “Fight me and fight me and  _fight me!_  I welcome it!” he shouts. “But you...you and I—” He clenches his hands into fists. “You are nothing to me.”

“Yeah.” Magnus reaches for the door. “I guess so.”

Kalen goes to the window and shuts it. “If this is war, Magnus, then you should know—” He snaps the lock shut. “I intend to win. No matter what.”

Magnus wants to say something, but there’s nothing left to say. He steps out of the office, closing the door behind him. He hears something hit the wall and shatter in his wake as Kalen’s fury finally spills over.

When he makes it outside, to the barren courtyard, Magnus looks up at the window he knows Kalen is watching from. He waits, listening to the crowd grow louder behind him, then turns and walks toward the line of soldiers to join the people of Raven’s Roost.

 

 


	3. five of cups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He never got a chance to say goodbye. Not properly. He thinks about his last words — _I love you_ — and slides her ring onto the chain around his neck. It clicks against his own, a bright, bell-like sound among the quiet of his room. 
> 
> “Missed you,” he says, and grips both rings tight in his palm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew! finally got more of this done.

_“You give Steven a hearty handshake and you give Julia a hug and kiss goodbye. Do you remember the last thing you said?”_

_“I said I love you, Jules.” — from The Eleventh Hour, Chapter 8_

 

* * *

 

_The Five of Cups is a card that signifies difficulty, loss, and the challenges of dealing with that loss. The figure in the card wears a black cloak in which he hides his face in apparent despair._

 

* * *

 

Kalen’s soldiers are gone. They defect, one by one, until the last handful that remain simply lay down their arms. Magnus stands in the courtyard of the governor’s office. He’s taken one of the soldiers’ swords, and he holds it in his hand, waiting. Kalen has to come out sometime.

Eventually the doors open. It’s been months since Magnus has seen him, over a year since they’ve spoken. The man that comes out of the building and into the courtyard is a different creature than the one Magnus remembers.

Thin and crow-like, hands held behind his back as the last of his men step aside. He’d been wrong, Magnus supposes. There was a bit of loyalty in some of them after all.

Kalen stops ten feet from Magnus and the last years of their lives are laid bare between them. Neither moves, standing frozen in place as if daring the other to strike first. Kalen isn’t defenseless, he has a blade, same as Magnus. The same one, in fact, that he _offered_ Magnus. It feels like a decade has passed, but it’s only been two years.

Which means it’s only been two years since Magnus still called Kalen his brother. And two years isn’t long enough to forget. Magnus once _loved_ this man, counted him as kin. Now, the people he’s fought with want Kalen dead, and it falls on Magnus, as so many things have these past months, to do the deed.

Kalen puts a hand on the hilt of his sword. “I take it you intend to kill me.”

Magnus glances over his shoulder. The people of Raven’s Roost demand blood. He looks back at Kalen. “It’s what they want.”

“But...it isn’t what _you_ want.” Kalen makes the first move, taking one step closer. Magnus draws his sword in an instant, but Kalen raises a hand. “I’m not going to fight you, Magnus. Not like this. Not...not anymore.” And suddenly Magnus can see it — the exhaustion and, in the deeper lines of his face, the fear. Kalen unbuckles the sword from his waist and tosses it for Magnus to catch.

“You win,” Kalen says. “I know I promised I would, but—” He looks behind him. Only four of his men remain. “I know when it’s over.”

Magnus swallows thickly.

Kalen lifts his hands, palms facing up, and looks toward the heavy clouds in the sky. “A dreary day for victory, but appropriate for an execution.” He drops his hands. “Where do you want to do this, Magnus?”

 _Nowhere_ , Magnus thinks. He doesn’t want to kill Kalen. He wants him to leave, but what he desperately wants is another shooting star. Another wish. He knows better, now. He’d do it _right_ this time.

“I…” He grips the sword tighter in his hand. He could just do it here, he could kill this man and they’d all be free.

But Kalen is empty handed. He’s beaten and down. Magnus and the others — they’ve _won_ , he realizes. This is their day, their celebration.

It shouldn’t start with death.

Both swords fall to the ground. Magnus’s mouth is _dry_ as he looks up at Kalen, who seems...surprised.

“I want you to go,” Magnus says. He steps forward. “I want you to leave, and never come back.”

“Don’t be a _coward_ ,” Kalen says. “You won. You deserve this—”

“You’re done talking.” Magnus stares him down and Kalen...backs away. “Leave, and don’t ever let me see you again.”

Kalen’s hands are trembling. He glances over his shoulder at his remaining men and nods. “Alright,” he says. “If that’s...if that’s what you want—”

Magnus laughs, but it’s hollow to his own ears. “What I _want?_ You...you want to talk about what I want now?” It almost gets away from him, this wild feeling of _freedom._ He reigns it in. “Just... _go_ , Kalen.”

“Magnus—”

“ _Go!_ ” Magnus bellows. The noise echoes in the barren courtyard. When it has subsided, Kalen turns and walks toward his men and into the governor’s office. Magnus picks up his sword, and feels Julia’s hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” she says.

Magnus turns to her, then looks at everyone else. They look as tired as Magnus feels.

He already knows he’ll be hated for this. They want blood, _revenge_ — but Magnus can’t give that to them. It isn’t in him. Killing Kalen feels...wrong, but thinking about it is like trying to remember where he came from. It feels distant and...forgotten. Pulled from him.

He looks to Julia. “Is this...the right thing?”

“Yes,” she says, firmly. “You are _not_ a killer, Magnus.” She holds his face in her hands. “You are a fighter, and a hero, but never a killer.” She kisses him.

“...I suppose I’ll miss the wedding,” Kalen says, startling them. He’s standing some feet away now, pack slung over his shoulder, his remaining men flanking his sides. He sighs and adjusts his bag, looking past Magnus at the crowd. “Maybe you’ll understand, now. Maybe you’ll see what I see.” He looks back at Magnus. “I hope you sleep well, with the choice you’ve made.”

And then — he’s gone. He goes south, toward the mountains, and doesn’t look back once.

A certain pain grips Magnus, as Kalen becomes a distant figure making his way down the road. Raven’s Roost was his home, and Magnus has sent him away from it.

He wonders, then, if this was his fate, years ago. If he destroyed something he once loved, and was exiled for it. It doesn’t seem like something he’d do, but then, Magnus has forgotten most of who he used to be.

Julia’s hand slips into his own.

He pushes those thoughts aside and concentrates on victory.

 

* * *

 

Magnus goes through the weeks after in a daze. It’s only a month after Kalen is gone that Julia reminds him, gently, that they’re engaged, and Magnus feels like he’s finally waking up.

And — so does Raven’s Roost.

The shops of Fifth Street open again. The council reconvenes. The land cleared for the factory that was never built is claimed. Magnus builds a gazebo.

“What’s it for?” Julia asks. She comes by in the afternoons to bring him lunch. They sit on the steps leading up to the home they’ll live in together soon and drink iced tea.

“It’s for us,” Magnus says, and kisses her temple.

“Us…”

“I’m going to marry you in it.” Magnus angles himself toward her and takes her face in his hands. “We need this. _Everyone_ needs this.”

Julia nods, reaching out to grip his shirt. “Yeah. They do.” She looks up and smiles. “I love you, do you know that?”

“Very well,” Magnus says, and kisses her forehead.

 

* * *

 

He had known, the moment he saw her, that Julia was going to change everything. He’d known she was going to make his world a completely different shape, a completely different _place._ It’s the same feeling, standing in the gazebo, leaning down to kiss her as their family and friends cheer around them.

No one has forgotten, and sometimes Magnus has to listen. To their pain, their anger and frustration that he just _let Kalen go_ — but tonight is the first night on the way to healing. After the wedding, Magnus knows things are going to be different. They fill the town square with lights and music and dancing, and Magnus holds Julia close, closing his eyes and remembering their moments in the gazebo, as the sun was setting, and the cheers went up through the crowd.

“What are you thinking about?” Julia asks. She pulls back, cupping his cheek and stroking a thumb over his brow.

“Us,” he says. “Everyone.” For the first time in so long, Magnus feels like Raven’s Roost can finally be at peace. “I’ve been so worried that I...that I made the wrong choice.”

Julia shakes her head. “No, Magnus. You didn’t.” She kisses him. “You made the right choice. You did _the right thing._ ”

“Okay.” He pulls her in against his chest, kissing the top of her head. “Okay.”

They move into their little house and make it their own. Raven’s Roost _is_ healing — Stephen returns to the city council to lead it, and there’s talk of electing a new governor, though everyone is hesitant to renew the title. The Burnsides home and farm becomes a place of meeting and talking, spirited debate and long evening chats. Magnus builds an oversized picnic table and places it in the front yard, and Julia invites people over. They cook and cook and cook _and cook_ — and in that way, they _all_ start to heal.

Magnus sits at the end of the table those nights, a pint of Eddie’s new brew in hand, watching the people he fought alongside start to open up again, to smile and celebrate.

He wonders if it would feel different, if Kalen were dead. He wonders if he’d regret that, or if people would be happier. Not everyone has forgiven him, and Magnus knows not everyone will. He also understands that _this_ is what Kalen meant, before he left. That hard choices had to be made, and not all of Raven’s Roost would see things the way Magnus did.

It doesn’t seem so bad, when he goes to bed next to Julia each night, or opens the shop every morning.

It just...doesn’t seem so bad.

 

* * *

 

They celebrate when the anniversary of Kalen’s defeat comes. The streets are still empty of tourists these days — travelers don’t pass through too often, but the council is working on that. There’s reason to celebrate all the same, and Raven’s Roost pulls out the stops. The town square fills with people as everyone shows off the things they’ve been working on, as Eddie shows off his new pub, and as the council reveals their new constitution, determined after _months_ of deliberating. Stephen is exhausted, but proud.

Magnus drinks whiskey for the first time in years. Not since that night he tried to meet Kalen at the house, and came home drunk and alone. It touches his tongue and he wants to retch, but he holds it down.

So many parts of his mind are blank, his history and his past a question — he supposes that some memories becoming stronger than others is just a form of overcompensation. But he has no desire to remember the man Kalen used to be _today_ , of all days.

Some things just come. Unbidden. Unwelcome. That’s the worst of this, Magnus knows. That he can’t choose which moments he remembers. Not for the first time he wonders if his empty past is a punishment, but he pushes that aside. He pushes it all aside.

Today is a day to remember victory. To love one another. So he takes Julia’s hand, and pulls her into the crowd of dancers.

And he tries to forget.

 

* * *

 

“It’s just…” Julia rests her chin on Magnus’s chest, carding her fingers through the hair there before kissing his neck. “It’s _far_.”

“I know,” Magnus says. “But I’ll be back before you know it.”

“You’re not going to _sell_ my chair, Magnus Burnsides.”

“What?” He sits up. “No, of course not.”

Julia smiles and gets out of bed, going to her vanity to brush her hair. “That’s good,” she says. “I’ve got real big plans for that chair.”

“Oh yeah?” Magnus follows her, bending down to wrap his arms around her and kiss her cheek. “Like what?”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“I know. I just like to hear you say it.”

She sighs and turns to look up at him. “I am going to rock our children to sleep in that chair. And when they’re too old for that, you’ll build us another.” She reaches to cup his cheek. “Because you and I are going to grow old in them. Together.”

Magnus presses his forehead to hers. “I love it when you say that.”

“I know you do,” she says, and turns back to finish getting ready.

 

* * *

 

_It is memorable to you now, but in the moment, you weren’t thinking, “I’m going to remember everything about this moment” while it was happening. ‘_

_Cause that’s just the way that things go sometimes._

 

* * *

 

There is nothing left, when he comes back.

Magnus steps down from the cart and stares. He doesn’t recognize this place or the way it smells. Like ash and death. He bends down and scoops up a handful of earth, and he doesn’t know why he wasn’t here. It doesn’t quite register, doesn’t _sit_ where it should.

There is a pile of rubble where the Hammer and Tongs once stood. Magnus begins sifting through it, heaving beams and piles of smoking timber with his bare hands, until they are raw and black with soot. He calls for her, for her father. He says her name until he is hoarse, until all that escapes him is a wild, endless wail.

From behind him, a voice says, “I buried them all.”

Magnus turns. A woman, tall and dressed in black, her hands and arms darkened with ash, approaches him. “The attack happened days ago. Most everyone is gone.”

“Who—”

“I’m a traveller, and I buried them.” She points to a stretch of land, still empty from Kalen’s rule, a place they could never decide on what to do with. “I didn’t know their names, I’m sorry. But I buried them all, over there.”

Magnus runs past her, looking between the spots of freshly dug earth.

“All of them?” he asks. The woman is standing next to him, and she takes his burnt and bleeding hands into her own. The skin knits itself back together.

“Yes,” she says. “All of them.”

Magnus looks behind him at what is left of the Corridor. He looks back to the graves. “My wife is there. You buried my wife. Tell me you remember which one. Tell me you _know_ —”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “But I don’t.”

Magnus nods. He can’t stand anymore, so he sits. He feels like a pile of bones. The woman sits next to him.

Magnus says quietly, “Everyone’s gone.”

“Yes. They were afraid. I tried to convince them to stay, but there was no discussion to be had. They thought there might be more.”

Magnus nods, reaching into the freshly dug dirt, burying his hand. “She’s all I have,” he says.

The woman puts a cool hand on the back of Magnus’s neck. “I am sad for you,” she murmurs. “My heart aches for your loss. I don’t know if this is a comfort to you, but...I believe she is—”

“Do not tell me that she is in a better place,” Magnus says. He pulls his hand from the dirt and stands, backing away. “Do not _tell me_ that she’s...she’s at _peace._ That is _bullshit_.” He goes back to the cart, hearing the woman following behind him. “I know who did this,” he says.

“You will not find peace in revenge—”

“I don’t _know you_ ,” Magnus snarls. He rounds on her, and she steps back, hands raised. “You don’t know _me._ But I do know one thing. I know Kalen did this.” He climbs into the seat of the cart again. “I’m going to find him. And I’m going to kill him.”

The woman sighs. “If that will help you—” She steps back from the cart. “You’re going to struggle. You know this, don’t you?”

“I came into this world struggling,” Magnus says, without thought. “I’m no stranger to it.”

The woman sighs. “I know,” she says. “And I’m sorry for that. I wish you luck, Magnus Burnsides. Really, I do.”

Magnus nods and urges his horse forward.

He is too far away to wonder how she knew his name by the time he thinks to ask, but it’s hardly a question. The world is strange and wild. That is a lesson he has learned over and over again.

He passes his home and his farm, but he doesn’t stop. She isn’t there. No one is there. He passes Ben and Lucille’s farm where he came up from nothing, but he doesn’t stop there, either. Eventually he finds the patch of dirt where he was found. Years and years later, Magnus has not forgotten. Birds circle overhead, and Magnus finally decides to stop.

Boots touch the earth where Kalen found him, and Magnus wretches,dry heaves into the dirt. He claws at it, trying, maybe, to discover a part of himself that he left behind. Maybe it will tell him what it all means.

He looks up into the sky, too bright and clear for all _this_. Smoke still lingers at the edges of his vision, and he thinks he might see it for as long as he lives. “Why?” he croaks. “Why did you leave me here?” He stands on trembling legs. “ _What did I ever do to you?_ ”

Magnus is not a man of faith, but there is no one else to blame.

“I didn’t _want this!_ ” he shouts. “I never _asked_ for this! I wanted a good life. I wanted a _kind life!_ ” He runs his hands through his hair, tugging.

In one way, he thinks, he _did_ have a kind life.

In another, he most certainly didn’t.

He climbs back into the cart, and he doesn’t look back.

 

* * *

 

In the next town over, Magnus sells the horse, and he sells the chair.

He gets a room at an inn and goes down to the pub. He should ask about Kalen, but he’s exhausted. It feels now like the fight never ended. Like it was all just leading up to _this._ He drinks until he’s dizzy, then makes his way back upstairs and falls into bed.

The morning after is brutal. His head is pounding, he is sick, sick, _sick_ in his stomach. There is a fitful moment where he thinks he’s in his bed, and he thinks he can feel the weight of Julia in the place next to him — but he slides his hand over and the sheets are strange and cool to touch. Magnus sits upright and looks around, trying to remember where he is, what’s happened.

He makes his way downstairs and orders something to eat. The owner brings it around and stops to make small talk. Magnus does his best to answer her.

“Where’d you come from?” she asks congenially. It’s all just to kill time. The place is empty and she’s friendly.

Magnus doesn’t _feel_ friendly, but he says quietly, “Raven’s Roost.”

The woman goes very still, and takes a step back. “Oh,” she says. “Oh, I’m—”

Her fear makes Magnus feels bold and he straightens in his chair. “I’m looking for someone. Maybe you know him. Used to go by Governor Kalen.”

The woman shakes her head. “N-no. No, I don’t know him.”

“Well, if you see him, you tell him—” Magnus takes the toast from his plate and stands. “Magnus Burnsides is looking for him.”

 

* * *

 

Magnus looks for a long time.

He buys an axe, and a new pair of boots. He does farm work and mercenary work. He helps build houses and bridges, escorts nobles from one town to another. He keeps an ear to the ground and tells anyone who will listen that a man destroyed his home, and he’s going to find him.

Maybe it keeps Kalen in hiding. Or maybe Kalen doesn’t even know. Magnus doesn’t care. The first few years, it’s all he can think about. It’s what keeps him from going crazy with grief. It’s the idea of revenge, of retribution and payback that keeps him _alive_ even after the trail goes cold.

But he admits to himself, eventually, that he may never find him. They are older, and no one remembers Raven’s Roost anymore. Magnus thinks he’s gone a little soft these days. He’s friendlier, laughs more, _does_ more.

He doesn’t think about Julia dying for a long while, until he goes up to his room at an inn in Luskan one day to find a package outside his door. The note tied to the outside reads: _This belonged to your wife. It should now belong to you._ Magnus opens it and a solid gold ring falls into his palm.

It opens the floodgates. Memory of memory pours in, and his knees buckle under the weight of it. He makes a soft noise, pleads to _himself_ to make it stop. Things he’s tried not to think about, tried to push down. They rise to the surface, and Magnus _aches._

He never got a chance to say goodbye. Not properly. He thinks about his last words — _I love you_ — and slides her ring onto the chain around his neck. It clicks against his own, a bright, bell-like sound among the quiet of his room.

“Missed you,” he says, and grips both rings tight in his palm.

 

* * *

 

It is a year later when he sits down in a pub, urged here by a strange, unknown courier, and meets with the wizard, Taako, and the cleric, Merle Highchurch, for the first time in so many years.

There is an undercurrent of familiarity. He likes them right away, and it reminds him of that time, so many years ago, when Kalen took him into town, and Magnus bought himself a pair of sturdy denim jeans.

(A thought he isn’t allowed to have, but desperately wants to.)

Still — he extends a hand, and Merle takes it jovially. Taako raises a brow.

“I’m Magnus,” he says. “Magnus Burnsides.”

And, well — you already know everything that comes after.


	4. ten of swords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But I had to dig for the truth with my bare hands. And I had to figure out on my own what I would do with you, if I ever met you. So today, I choose to let you go. But I let you go knowing that _you_ know the truth. That Magnus forgot you. That when someone gave him the choice, he decided that you weren’t worth remembering. I heard what you were to him, when I went to Raven’s Roost. I know you were like brothers. That you found him and brought him back and helped him make a home. That’s what makes me different from the others. I know the truth about what you used to be, before you were a killer. So I know what _Magnus_ means to you.”
> 
> Angus grips the front of Kalen's shirt with both hands. “I want you to leave,” he says. “And never come back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy moly it's done. a HUGE shout-out to allison (marywhal) for editing this for me. it was such a joy to write this, and i really hope you all enjoy the ending.

_The Ten of Swords shows a man lying face down with ten long swords embedded in his back. A red cape is draped over the lower half of his body, while his top half remains unclothed. The sky above him is pitch black and there is a general feeling of pain, loss, and misfortune. However, despite these ominous images, there are positive aspects to this card. The sea before which the body lies is still and calm and the sun is rising in the distance beyond the mountains, indicating that the darkness will soon be dispelled. Thus, each new beginning must come from an end, and with every defeat are sown the seeds of future victory._

 

* * *

 

Kalen lives, but only just. The life and the identity he takes on after Raven’s Roost is a half-life. He’s hardly aware of himself as he plans the attack on the Corridor, as he observes the aftermath. Contacts tell him Magnus Burnsides is looking for him, but Kalen knows how to disappear. The men who left with him eventually abandon him — it’s not a surprise. He has no money to offer them, no future. Besides, he’ll survive longer if he doesn’t have to look after anyone else.

Looking after himself is hard enough.

He tails Magnus for a while, arriving in towns just after Magnus has left them, always a step behind. He thinks about revealing himself, about giving Magnus the chance to exact his revenge, but Kalen would rather live. There’s something about everything that’s happened that makes him want to _survive._ He picks up work where he can, keeps his ear to the ground, and lives in the shadows.

And then one day the world descends into chaos. Kalen is in Luskan, fighting with everything he has.

A song pierces the darkness.

Kalen sees Magnus’s face for the first time in _years._

An entire story — an entire _history_ — floods through him. He cries; he is angry; he is hopeful; and when it’s done, when the song has played its final note, Kalen closes his eyes and remembers a man laying face up in the dirt, staring at the sky.

He hears himself say: “You lost, friend?”

The fight ends. Kalen packs his things and goes in search of the only person in the world he has left.

 

* * *

 

Angus knows that Magnus is missing something.

He has a history that’s full of holes. He remembers who took him in when he came to Raven’s Roost, but not quite. He remembers that Julia died, but only just. He remembers that his town was destroyed, but the details are hard to get out of him. And because Angus loves Magnus, he doesn’t push. He knows he’s pushing up against something he’ll never be able to find.

But it’s frustrating. Angus _likes_ having answers. Coming up on a mystery that seems unsolvable gives him a stomach ache.

So he starts asking.

He starts with Merle, because Merle’s gone soft toward him over the years, since he became friends with Mavis. But Merle dances around it, says something sort of vague about Wonderland and things they gave up.

“So Magnus chose to forget something.”

“Now I didn’t _say that_ ,” Merle says quickly. “I didn’t say anything—”

Useless, is what he is. Angus agrees to stop asking and takes a cup of tea and goes upstairs to study with Mavis.

Taako isn’t helpful either. In fact, he’s abrasive about the whole thing, bristling like a cat when Angus brings it up one afternoon.

“Why are you asking?”

“Because I’m curious.”

“Well don’t be. About this.” He pinches Angus’s cheek gently. “Keep up the insatiable appetite for answers about everything else, bubbeleh. But all...all _that_ —” He pulls his hand back and waves it in the air. “That’s nothing for you to be worried about.”

Of course, Taako doesn’t know the first thing about teenagers. And he’s missed a very vital part of Angus’s personality that _makes him_ the world’s greatest detective —

Never tell him it’s nothing to worry about. Never say he should throw in the towel.

If anyone should understand this, it’s Taako — that only makes Angus work harder.

* * *

He thinks about going to Lucretia, but he isn’t sure what she’d say. Her life and her world are far from him, except for the nights when she graces their table. And she does, certainly, grace it. She is soft and quiet where Magnus is not, asks Angus questions about school that Magnus wouldn’t think to.

“Has Lucas covered proper transmutation theory yet, Angus?”

“Do you think you’ll find the divination course work interesting? I was never very good at it myself.”

“Don’t let _Barry_ teach you about necromancy. There’s a perfectly proper way to practice it _without_ turning yourself into a lich.”

She drinks deeply from her goblet and always goes a bit red. Angus can hear her laughing long after he’s gone upstairs to study. Sometimes he hears her crying, hears Magnus trying to comfort her.

She’s lived a terrible, lonely life, and Angus doesn’t envy her, though he sometimes knows the feeling. He isn’t lonely anymore, by any means, but he was, once, and that lingers. He thinks if anyone might understand his need to know what happened to Magnus, it would be Lucretia, but — no. He can’t ask her.

It hits him one evening, late after a night of studying.

 _He_ ’ _s_ the world’s greatest detective. Him. _Angus McDonald._ He could figure out what happened to Magnus. It would be easy. The idea has him out of bed, pulling out one of his old notebooks and outlining his research. He needs to get away, on his own. He needs to get to Raven’s Roost. General knowledge tells him that he can’t take a train to the town, but he can get close enough.

In the morning, he uses the forgery kit Carey gave him for his birthday to fake a quick permission slip for a school trip. He knows Magnus won’t ask many questions — he should feel guilty about it, maybe, taking advantage of his adoptive father’s good hearted nature, but there are bigger issues at hand.

There’s a _mystery_ to solve.

* * *

“A field trip, huh?” Magnus barely looks over the letter, too busy trying to carry six bags of dog food at once. “Seems like fun. When should we—” He drops the bags into their spot in the kennel before pulling out a handkerchief and mopping his brow. “When should I—”

“ _Yoo-hoo!_ ” Taako’s voice carries across the yard. He sticks his head out the back door and waves. “ _The prettiest elf you know is here!_ ”

“Oh, you brought Lup?” Magnus calls, and has to duck to avoid a quick arcane bolt. He laughs and puts a hand on Angus’s shoulder. “We’ll talk about the trip later.”

“Um—” Angus doesn’t _want_ to talk about it. He just needs to get to the train station without incident. But he follows Magnus inside and helps Taako and Kravitz get things ready for dinner, going over the plan in his head while they cook. At dinner he’s distracted. Magnus has to tap his shoulder to get his attention.

“Huh?”

“I was just telling Taako and Kravitz about your trip.”

“Oh! Uh, yeah, it’s to the Arcane Library in Newcrest.”

Taako snorts. “Bogus,” he says, and Angus stiffens. “They’re _dull, dull, dull_ , Ango. Skip it. Play hooky and come hang out with Taako.”

“I, uh. Can’t. I need to go.”

“Well, like I was saying, I’ll clear some time, what, tomorrow?” Magnus asks, and Angus nods. “Yeah, I’ll move a few appointments around, take you to the train station.”

“I can take him,” Kravitz says. He gives Angus a little smile and looks at Magnus. “It wouldn’t be any trouble.”

“Oh, you don’t have to.”

“Yes,” Angus says quickly. “You don’t have to.”

“Nonsense.” Kravitz lifts his wine glass and tips it toward Angus. “I’d absolutely love to.”

Angus saves his exasperation for his potatoes, which he spears angrily with a fork until Magnus says, “Don’t you have something to say to Kravitz?”

“Hm? Oh—” _Yeah_ , he thinks. _Mind your own business._ “Uh, thanks, Kravitz.”

“Of course.”

After dinner, Angus excuses himself upstairs and paces, trying to come up with a plan. He figures he might be able to talk Kravitz into just leaving him outside the station, but he’s got a slim chance of that best. He’ll have to think on his feet come morning.

When he and Kravitz arrive at the station, Angus feels like he has a solid plan in hand. He turns to tell Kravitz that he actually already has a ticket, funnily enough, confident that he’ll be able to play off the lie.

Kravitz turns to him, though, and says, “You have a ticket to Raven’s Roost then?” Angus opens his mouth to answer, but Kravitz holds up a hand to cut him off. “Tell me what you’re planning, Angus.”

“Nothing,” he says, but the time to lie his way out of this has passed. Angus sighs. “How did you figure it out?”

“You telegraphed your intentions pretty hard. A few calls among friendly deities got around to the Raven Queen.” Kravitz sits on one of the benches outside the station. Angus refuses to sit next to him, standing with his arms crossed, indignant that he’s been found out. “Don’t be a child—”

“I _am_ a child.”

Kravitz blinks, mouth working around his words. “...Well,” he says. “I suppose that’s why I can’t allow you to do this.”

“You’re not my father,” Angus says. “Don’t pretend like you have any sort of authority over me now, just because you don’t _like_ what I want to do.”

“ _Angus._ ” Kravitz’s tone grows sharp, and they stare one another down for a moment before Kravitz sighs. “You’re right. I’m not your father. But Magnus sort of... _is._ And what you’re playing with here is dangerous. The truth—”

“Do you know it?” Angus asks. “Because it’ll save me a train trip if you do.”

Kravitz considers him. Angus doesn’t break eye contact.

“You’d hate that,” Kravitz says. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small silver bell. “I’ll buy you the ticket, but if you need to leave at any moment, you ring this and I’ll be there in a flash.”

Angus hesitates, then takes the bell. “Alright.” he says, putting it into his bag.

Kravitz stands. “Be _careful_ , Angus. You turn over the wrong stone in the desert, and you never know what might be waiting.” He puts a hand on Angus’s shoulder and guides him into the station. They buy a ticket, and Kravitz walks him to the platform, kneeling down to fix his vest and right his bowtie. “The truth is painful, Angus. I just...I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I’ll be fine,” Angus says, pushing his hand away. “I can do this.”

Kravitz sighs and stands. “I know you can,” he says, and walks away.

 

* * *

 

After the day of story and song, Kalen tries to find Magnus, but it proves harder than planned. He’s almost impossible to get to, and by the time Kalen’s actually tracked him down, he’s lost his nerve. There’s no point in seeing him now. Magnus’s life is sure to be a mess, and Kalen won’t get what he wants.

Of course, he needs to figure _out_ what it is he wants.

Forgiveness, certainly. A brother again, perhaps.

A proper punishment, above all.

Kalen doesn’t know what that _looks_ like. He knows Magnus had intentions of killing him once, but he doesn’t know if the years and distance has changed him, or if it has only made his fury grow. So Kalen finds a place to call home and stays there. Luskan is only a few hours from Phandalin, and he blends in easily enough in the aftermath of the attack.

The years pass. Kalen settles into a quiet life, working a piece of land. It should be painful, that he spent all those years in school trying to _be something_ and here he is, back on a farm, this time his own. Ben would be proud, he thinks, as he hires a few men to help during the harvest. The anonymity is nice. The work is good and he sleeps well, most nights.

Other nights, not so much, but he tries not to dwell on those. It’ll be better, he thinks, after he sees Magnus. Magnus will make things right. Whether by shunning him or forgiving him, Kalen doesn’t care. He just knows he has to see Magnus again. Has to hear his voice one more time.

* * *

Kalen works his land for a comfortable ten years before finally deciding he’s going to do it. He leaves his men in charge and sets off. It doesn’t take much to figure out where Magnus lives — a beautiful house on a hill, outside Neverwinter, with a lush garden and a kennel of barking dogs in the back. Kalen spends a day in the city, working up the nerve to finally go to the house.

It’s beautiful, when he sees it up close. He smiles, recognizing signature bits of woodwork that are all Magnus. Sturdy foundation, good construction — it’s perfect in every way.

But no one is home. He realizes that right away.

Kalen turns to leave, but he’s struck with the urge to see the inside of Magnus’s home. They’ve both changed, he knows that, but there’s something in him that wants to know precisely _how_ Magnus is different now, so many years later.

He reaches into his coat pocket for the lockpick he carries with him. The door opens easily and Kalen steps inside.

All the furniture is Magnus-made too — he can tell right away. The kitchen is clean, with a tin of cookies and macarons on the table. Kalen explores the first floor for a while before moving upstairs. Plenty of extra bedrooms, for the people Kalen knows are in Magnus’s life now. He finds Magnus’s room right away, and it’s easy to just...rummage through a few things here and there.

He finds a red jacket in the closet, patched and worn, faded lettering on the breast pocket that reads _I.P.R.E._ He finds a golden lance, a strange shield, a horned helmet, and a necklace of bear teeth. All things stored away carefully, with love.

On the dresser, there’s a wooden duck. Kalen takes it in hand and wonders whatever happened to his, sent to him for Candlenights years and _years_ ago. Probably lost, destroyed with the rest of his things after his exile. Probably —

“Put it down,” a voice says.

Kalen looks up. There’s a mirror above the dresser, and behind his pale, aging reflection, he sees a young man. Twenties, most likely. Dressed well, wearing a pair of trendy glasses. He’s pointing a wand, though, and that’s what makes Kalen set the duck back on the dresser and turn around slowly.

“I...I’m sorry, I—”

“Come closer.” Kalen feels a quick burst of magic on him as he’s searched for anything dangerous. The boy lowers his wand. “Follow me.”

“I can really explain—”

“You don’t need to,” he says. “I already know who you are.” His captor heads down the stairs and Kalen trails slowly after him. He’s led into the kitchen, where a wave of a hand has tea cups and a kettle drifting about, preparing water to boil and leaves to steep. “Sit,” the boy says, and points to a chair.

“I should go.”

“Why? You just got here.”

“No, I’ve made a mistake, I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t be like that.” The boy looks at him. “You’ve made lots of mistakes in the past, Kalen. Why start trying to distance yourself now?” He turns to the stove. “I’m Angus, by the way.”

Kalen isn’t sure what to say. He lowers himself into a chair while Angus busies himself with the cups and plates. He opens a cabinet and pulls out a few tins of tea, deciding on one before putting the others back. Eventually the kettle on the stove whistles, and he waves his wand again, moving it toward the cups.

When everything is finally steeped, he sets one cup in front of Kalen and takes the chair opposite him.

“I should turn you in, considering you’ve broken into my father’s house.”

“Your _father—_ ”

“Adoptive, but it’s all semantics.” Angus pours a spot of milk into his tea. He glances at Kalen, who refuses to touch his. “It isn’t poisoned.”

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word for it.”

“I suppose I’ll have to.” The flap of the dog door startles Kalen, who watches as Angus reaches over for his cup of tea and sets it down on the floor. “I knew you’d smell this, Marigold.” He scratches behind the dog’s ear. “Nothing goes to waste, in the Burnsides house.”

“So Magnus...Magnus lives here.”

“He does. He’s just out right now. I was expecting him too, actually.” Angus takes a sip of his tea. “I certainly wasn’t expecting you.”

Kalen relents. “How do you know who I am?”

“Because I’m the world’s greatest detective,” Angus says, easily. He smiles a little when he does. “Well, I _used_ to be, when I was younger. I don’t solve as many mysteries these days. But you...you were my biggest one.” He leans forward. “No one would tell me about you. I asked and _asked._ I pulled every trick in the book. Big, weepy eyes, the trembling lip.” He laughs. “Just...no one wanted me to know who you were.”

“But...Magnus. Magnus would tell you—”

“No,” Angus says. “Magnus couldn’t. But _not_ ,” he adds quickly, “for the reasons you think. I’ll get to that, of course. But in a minute.” He waves his hand again and one of the cookie tins settles between them. “Macaron?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, popping one of the cookies into his mouth and chewing for a moment before he says, “I chased down the story of you. Of what you did. Someone told me that day that _you_ would be a painful truth.”

Angus reaches into the inside of his jacket, and pulls out a small, silver bell. “You know?” he says, setting it on the table. “They were right.”

 

* * *

 

The sound of the bell lingers, long after it’s been rung. Angus is breathing heaving on the outskirts of Raven’s Roost, and suddenly Kravitz is there, reaching out and enveloping him in his arms.

“It’s alright,” he says. “It’s over.”

“It’s not though.” Angus looks up. “It...it can _never_ be over. Not until—”

“Don’t speak it. Taking care of this was never your job.”

Angus doesn’t say anything else. He lets Kravitz take him home, brushing the dust from his pants and shoes. When Angus goes to hand back the bell, he shakes his head.

“You keep it,” he says. “It’s one time use anyway. Today was important for you, Angus. I know you have your story, and you have the truth, but...you should have something else to remind you of how strong you were. How _brave_ you had to be.” Kravitz leans down and kisses the top of his head. “And how much you _love_ Magnus to go so far for the truth.” He puts a hand on Angus’s back and begins leading him up the hill. “I am very proud of you, Angus McDonald. And if Magnus could know, I think he would be, too.”

 

* * *

 

Kalen listens to Angus’s story, holding on to every word. It’s strange, to have his home described to him, and to hear the names of people he once knew.

Silence settles between them as Angus finishes. He toys with the bell, ringing it and waking the dog at his feet.

Kalen swallows. “Are you going to kill me, then?”

Angus doesn’t look at him. He says, dryly, “I suppose I could. I’m capable of it, if that’s what you’re asking. I know the right spells. I also know that no one would particularly miss you, and honestly, I wouldn’t feel very guilty about it.” He finally looks up. “You destroyed Raven’s Roost. You killed Julia, and her father. I really can’t think of someone who deserve to live _less_ than you, right now.” He takes another cookie, chewing on it thoughtfully. “But,” he says. “I’m not going to kill you. Don’t look so relieved,” he adds.

“You’ll have to forgive me if I—”

“No,” Angus snaps. “No more forgiveness. I know that’s what you’re here for, and you won’t be leaving with it.”

Kalen stands, jostling the table. “I don’t know why I’m wasting my time with you, _brat_. I came here to see Magnus, and I won’t leave until I have.”

Angus stands with him, and Kalen is suddenly aware, now, how the boy towers, and how his hand reaches into his jacket for his wand.

Kalen never had an aptitude for magic. He tried to learn at university, but he was never good enough. This boy, though...Kalen knows _power_ when he sees it, and he believes Angus when he says he has the spells and the guts to kill him.

But he also believes that he won’t, which, frankly, scares him.

Because at this point, what could be worse than death?

“Do you know why I had to hunt you down? Why I had to chase _ghosts_ trying to find the truth, Kalen?” Angus grips his wand. “It’s because Magnus doesn’t remember you.”

“...What?”

“You don’t deserve the whole story, frankly, but he had a choice between forgetting Julia and forgetting you, and _you_ were the one he chose.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Is it? Didn’t you think that, maybe, after the with the Hunger was over, Magnus might try to find you? Because he asked his friends to hunt you down. He _never_ stopped wanting you dead. But when he had to make a sacrifice, when he had to choose between losing the memory of his wife, and the memory of a man he called a _brother_ —” Angus _fumes._ “He chose _you_.”

Kalen’s hands are trembling. “I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to,” Angus says. He puts his wand back inside his jacket and sits back down. “You’ll get to see for yourself in a minute.”

Kalen hears the sound of a pack of dogs braying like mad and someone shouting joyfully up the hill. The door to the house opens. Someone toes off their boots, humming to themselves and taking off their jacket. Kalen looks up — and Magnus is standing in the kitchen.

“Hey!” he says, gesturing toward Angus. “This is a surprise! I wasn’t expecting you ‘til Friday!”

Angus is a different person now. He beams, standing up to meet Magnus and embrace him. “I finished work early. Thought I’d come ‘round to say hi.”

“Well I’m glad you did.” Magnus glances over at Kalen. “Who’s your friend?”

Kalen’s entire mouth is dry. He feels like he’s been dunked in ice water, and left for several days. He hears Angus say, “This is Kalen. He’s thinking about coming to work at the school.”

“Is he?” Magnus extends a hand. “Good to meet you. Magnus Burnsides.”

Kalen isn’t sure how long he stares. Long enough for it to become awkward. Angus says quickly, “He’s had a long day. I was just going to walk him to the train station and go home, but I’ll come back to have dinner with you. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good,” Magnus says, giving Kalen a strange look.

Kalen clears his throat. “I...I’m sorry. You just...you look like someone I knew. When I was a younger man.”

Magnus relaxes, chuckling and grabbing Kalen’s hand as he gets out of his seat. “I get that a lot, you know. Funny how that works.”

“Yes,” Kalen says. “Hilarious.”

Magnus drops his hand and turns back to Angus. “Don’t be long. I’ll give Taako a ring, maybe we can get out of cooking.”

Angus nods and motions for Kalen to follow. They head out of the house and began walking toward the train station. When they’re far enough away, Angus stops.

“I told you,” he says. “He doesn’t remember you.”

Kalen grabs Angus’s sleeve. “Kill me. I can’t live like this, _kill me_ —”

“No.” Angus wrenches out of his grip. “Death is too good for you. You don’t deserve that.”

“But he _wanted_ me dead. He hunted me for years, you’d be doing him a favor.”

“No,” Angus says. “You still don’t _get it_ , do you? I already told you. I could kill you if I wanted, but I won’t.” Angus steps back and laughs. “I spent my years as a child trying to be like the people who raised me. I thought, if I could be strong like them, or _clever_ like them, then I would have it all figured out. But that’s not how it is anymore. I’m not Magnus. I’m not Taako or Lucretia or any of them.” He points. “They would kill you in a heartbeat, and that’s not a slight against them. I can’t blame them for wanting to do right by Magnus. To do what he asked. It only makes sense.

“But I had to dig for the truth with my bare hands. And I had to figure out on my own what I would do with you, if I ever met you. So today, I choose to let you go. But I let you go knowing that _you_ know the truth. That Magnus forgot you. That when someone gave him the choice, he decided that you weren’t worth remembering. I heard what you were to him, when I went to Raven’s Roost. I know you were like brothers. That you found him and brought him back and helped him make a home. That’s what makes me different from the others. I know the truth about what you used to be, before you were a killer. So I know what _Magnus_ means to _you_.”

Kalen feels sick. He feels like he’s slipping away, like Angus is becoming smaller and smaller.

And then, Angus is enormous, and he’s gripping the front of Kalen’s shirt with both hands.

“I want you to leave,” he says. “And never come back.”

 

* * *

 

When Angus gets back to the house, Magnus is chopping onions and crying.

“I thought you were going to get Taako to cook for you.”

“Changed my mind,” Magnus says, grinning through the tears. “Thought we’d make something together.”

Angus nods. “Haven’t done that in a while.” He moves around the kitchen, putting a hand on Magnus’s shoulder and looking over the recipe laid out on the counter. “Looks good.” He thinks Magnus might bring up Kalen, but the entire encounter seems to have slipped his mind. Marigold is still in the kitchen, looking expectantly up at the tea kettle until Angus ushers her back outside.

He and Magnus pass the afternoon and evening this way — cooking and drinking beer on the front porch, trading stories about their week and making plans to go camping when the weather improves. Lucretia arrives later that night, and Taako and Kravitz find their way over, too. Eventually the house is full of family, Lup and Taako bickering in the kitchen while Barry and Magnus check on the dogs.

Angus thinks about telling Kravitz — the bell is safely in his pocket again. He hasn’t gone anywhere without it in ten years.

But Kravitz is laughing with Lucretia in the living room, and music is tumbling softly from the record player.

Angus smiles and pours himself another glass of wine, helping himself to another cookie as he shoulders open the backdoor to walk out into the yard.

The afternoon is his story to tell or to keep, but, like Magnus, he’s decided — Kalen certainly used to be something, but he’s just not worth remembering anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @ weatheredlaw


End file.
